


The Best and Craziest Command Team This Side of the Quadrant Is Coming To A Starbase Near You

by Rosslyn



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Adventures of Kirk and Spock, Around the Quadrant in 80 Days, Bickering, Crack, Feel good fix, Fluff, Humor, Kirk is Insufferable and Spock Suffers, M/M, Of course it goes to plan, Pike Lives, Romantic Comedy, Wagers are Illogical, Well that got pretty Kirazy pretty fast, space boyfriends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosslyn/pseuds/Rosslyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Spock of Vulcan decides to travel around the Alpha Quadrant using only civilian routes, for research purposes. Research, because wagers are illogical. What’s more illogical, of course, is his human associate (“Captain, I’m still your Captain, Spock”), James T Kirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Adventure with a healthy dose of crack!

“Just for the record, I think you are _insane_ ,” Kirk says.

“May I remind you that it was yourself who displayed the greatest amount of initial enthusiasm at the idea,” Spock counters. 

“Yeah but, insane, like, insanely hot,” Kirk continues, a little wild-eyed, breathless, and entirely oblivious to Spock’s objections. “Sorry. Did I just say hot? I mean genius. Like, _awesome_.”

“You are not making sense,” Spock says congenially. “Are you certain Admiral Pike would be favourable to our request? Once he has been made privy to our plan, there is very little room for turning back.”

“Are you kidding?” Kirk says, running in front of him with an abundance of usual enthusiasm, “I’ll make Pike cough up that ship if he has to. This is the best idea I’ve had in years, beating your little test notwithstanding.”

“If hacking the Kobayashi Maru is the epitome of your ‘best ideas’, then I must rethink your application as my aide on this research trip,” Spock says. 

Kirk pauses in front of Pike’s office door and points a finger at himself. “Captain,” he says slowly and deliberately, then turns the finger around. “First Officer,” he says.

“For the duration of our research,” Spock begins, “which is determined by the length of the period that the Enterprise is out of commission, might I suggest that we forego -- ”

“WILL YOU TWO STOP BICKERING OUTSIDE MY DOOR AND GET IN,” Pike’s voice bellows, making Kirk jump.

“Captain,” Kirk mouthes as he nudged the door open with his shoulder. Spock resists the eye roll. 

“Admiral Pike,” Spock greets.

Pike grunts. “Kirk, stop jumping up and down. I haven’t got any ice cream for you.”

A great opening opportunity, and Kirk seizes it with enthusiasm.

“You have a ship,” Kirk says. “Mr. Spock and, uh -- and I, will need to borrow it for a, -- space mission.”

Pike lowers his PADD and squints.

“Space mission,” he repeats.

“Research project,” Spock corrects.

“A wager,” Kirk stage whispers. 

Spock’s finger twitches at his side.

Pike slowly moves his eyes until they come fixed upon Spock’s face. “This is the part where you tell me wagers are illogical and Vulcans do not partake in such silly human games,” he says.

“Wagers are illogical,” Spock agrees readily, then falls silent.

Pike’s eyes bulge a little. Beside Spock, Kirk makes a theatrical gesture, and mouthes: “Best First Officer ever.” Spock flushes warm and pretends not to notice.

Pike opens his mouth, inhales, then closes it again. “And pray tell,” he says after a few seconds of stunned silence, “What does this wager comprise of?”

Making a point to ignore Kirk’s impatient bouncing by the heel, Spock explains: “We wish to take advantage of the leave granted during the period when the Enterprise goes under repair, which is approximately three months,” he pauses. “To explore the Alpha Quadrant.” 

“The Alpha Quadrant,” Pike echoes.

“Via civilian routes,” Spock adds. “I was notified one of the Vulcan science exploratory vessels was docked for repair on Earth last month. It has completed a diagnostic test this morning and has been deemed fit for travel. As there are no scheduled Starfleet transport to Vulcan in the next week, it would be expedient if we could borrow the vessel, return it to a Vulcan outpost, from where we would make our further travels.”

 “Expedient,” Pike parrots.

“Most expedient,” Spock agrees, then looks on expectantly. 

Pike slowly turns back to Kirk. “You two do realise there are also _Klingons_ in the Alpha Quadrant?”

“Yeah we fought them,” Kirk says dismissively. “Pike! Don’t you see? We are going around the Quadrant in eighty days! This is one for the books!”

“If you are not careful this will be the one for the Klingon opera,” Pike says. “What prompted this madness?”

“Something to do with how annoying pricks always talk about we hide behind Starfleet and can never get anywhere on our own,” Kirk says hurriedly, waving a hand. Spock looks away, and Pike’s gaze suddenly softens by degrees. Halfway success. “The point is. If we use the Vulcan ship to get to Vulcan, that counts as personal connection, not Starfleet resources. Then we make our own way around the Quadrant. Just... think of it as a pre-run for that Deep Space Mission I know you’ll grant us. Huh?” 

Pike rubs at the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily. “This is the craziest idea I’ve ever heard coming out of your mouth, kid, and I’ve heard plenty,” he says.

Spock and Kirk’s gaze meet, and for a brief, mad second, Spock thought he heard Kirk think ‘this is exactly what Bones would say’. Spock’s eyebrow twitches, and Kirk beams wide at him.

“And will you stop making those eyes at each other?” Pike says. “Number One isn’t back for another week and I’ve had enough. Fine. Go. Starfleet doesn’t have authority to hold Vulcan vessels anyway, take it and make sure it gets returned to your people. I can’t control what you do in your spare time,” Pike says with a note of regret. “Just make sure both of you come back alive, do you hear?”

“Aye sir,” Kirk says with a quick salute, already retreating for the door.

“Your assistance is appreciated,” Spock inclines his head. 

Pike eyes him oddly, then, just as Spock is about to close the door, calls: “If you two get married in Vegas without telling me, I’d be really pissed!”

“Vegas is a desert planet with only a small mining colony,” Spock says, as they make their way to the hanger. “I was not aware a registrar exists among the facilities.”

Kirk laughs heartily and thumps Spock on the back. “You know what I think Pike is thinking? I bet you Pike is thinking, ‘this could be worse. It could be the Gamma Quadrant that they want to go to. At least parts of the Alpha Quadrant is already pretty well explored.’”

“I take it adhering to ‘well-explored’ routes is not a part of your travel plan,” Spock says drily.

Kirk blows him a kiss and climbs agilely into the vessel. Peering down, he waves at Spock with a familiar gleam in his eye.

“Second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning!” Kirk calls.

Spock smiles and follows.


	2. Day 2

The issue of chain of command remains unresolved. Kirk insists on referring to himself as the Captain, despite it is Spock who has control of the Vulcan vessel. "A situation soon to change", Kirk insists, followed by frequent bouts of cackling that serves no real purpose. If it was not for the fact that they are scheduled to dock at a Vulcan outpost soon, Spock would feel compelled to meditate on the distinct possibility of a mutiny by his own Captain. 

Sometimes, logic fails even Vulcans in close proximity to Kirk.

They dock and return the ship with minimal commotion, and manages to negotiate access on an outgoing ship to Rigel X, departing in three hours. News travel fast: the fact that the command team of the Enterprise is travelling through the Alpha Quadrant via civilian means and without the help of Starfleet, for a wager, has already made interstellar headlines.

"We," Kirk announces, pointing a finger back and forth between him and Spock, "are going to be famous."

"We are not without reputation at the moment," Spock says. "Although the news of our... research -- "

"Wager, Spock, you can say wager," Kirk says helpfully.

" _Research_ ," Spock enunciates, "will provide us with both an edge and disadvantage."

"Yeah, upside? The whole Quadrant will be watching, so those idiots can't say we cheated or something. The downside, well, _the whole Quadrant is fucking watching._ We can't really sneak anywhere and it wouldn't look good to -- holy shit, when did they take that picture? _"_

Kirk nearly covers the holovid transmitter with his arms. "That's disgusting. No, that's decidedly _not_ how I look while dancing."

"There were significant amount of paparazzi present in Rigel IV last time we were in orbit, because of the Cardassian General's visit," Spock says after a glance.

"Urgh. Tell me I look better than this," Kirk says.

"That is a particularly unflattering picture," Spock consoles. "Given the right lighting conditions and camera angle, you are an extremely aesthetically pleasing human."

A pause, then Kirk laughs clamourously, drawing the attention of several Vulcan scientists nearby. "How did Uhura _ever_ agree to go out with you?!" Kirk asks, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

Spock furrows his brows lightly. "Your face presents very little asymmetrical flaws," he reasons. "Humanoid aesthetics are largely based on symmetry, which denotes healthy genetic -- "

Kirk makes a wide swiping gesture that Spock understands to be a universal sign for 'no', in capital letters -- "NO," Kirk says, almost hiccuping because of the laughter. "Just, stop. Spock, if you ever want to pick up girls again, just... the less talk, the better, kay? We gotta work your strong point here, and I tell you, talking praises ain't one of them."

Spock falls silent for a few seconds. "I have no wish to 'pick up girls' in our travels," he says in the end, slightly baffled.

Kirk eyes him, then shrugs. "Fine. If you won't, I won't."

"I feel I am no longer in full comprehension of this conversation," Spock says, brows still furrowed.

Kirk barks another laugh, pats him on the arm, then sits up straighter as he catches another image from the holovision. "Hey! That's a picture of us."

Spock follows his gaze: indeed it is. 

"The lighting and the background brings out the colour of your eyes," Spock comments. "I believe if there must be a picture to go along with our travels, this one meets your standards?"

"Good one," Kirk says, nudging him and winking conspicuously. Spock gets the distinct feeling that he is not, in fact, referring to the picture. "You look good too. _We_ look good, huh? The best and craziest command team this side of the Quadrant."

Spock's eyebrow flies to the hairline. "Please tell me the choice phrase of 'crazy' is of your own addition and not of popular consensus."

"Pike clearly thinks we are crazy," Kirk reasons. 

"I do not find that comforting," Spock tells him.

"Of course you don't," Kirk says inconsequentially. "Food?"

They are approached by several Vulcan scientists in the mess: three asks about their 'research methodology', one asks about 'potential impact' and another questions them about funding. Spock answers each of their questions with a kind of academic rigour that only makes Kirk guffaw in the background. 

"I see no merit in your proposed research," one Vulcan tells them. "Civilian routes in the known part of the Alpha Quadrant are well established. It serves little purpose to repeat what has been done, and even more frivolous if it is been done for the purpose of personal gratification."

Kirk uncrosses his legs and pushes himself up in the chair. Spock pushes a carton of juice to his side.

"The key element in our research is, in fact, time, not routes," Spock says calmly. "There is no previous recorded attempt to travel around the Quadrant in a time-sensitive manner. Regional travel routes exist; they are not well linked. If we succeed in our endeavour, it should prove useful in coordinating large scale interstellar travel, thus boosting the regional economies of peripheral federal planets."

After a few seconds of terse silence, the Vulcan inclines his head. "I concede to your logic," he says, and takes his leave.

"Now I know why the science department always gets the most funding from the Academy," Kirk says, a hint of awe in his voice. "Vulcans may not lie, but you can sure bullshit like a king."

"There are no royalties who partake in the activity you have just described," Spock tells him solemnly, and Kirk laughs.

Halfway through the meal, both their communicators ring: Kirk gives one glance at his and discards the call, while Spock stares at his screen mutely.

Kirk pokes his head over, and makes a sound of sympathy. "You gonna take that?"

Spock stands up. "We should go to the waiting room," he says. "Will you not take Dr. McCoy's call, also?"

"Yeah, no," Kirk says, "I'd rather sit in at yours."

"As you wish," Spock says, even though the tone of sarcasm was obvious in Kirk's last comment. Kirk gives him a surprised look, but follows him to the waiting room nonetheless.

"Wagers are illogical," Sarek announces as soon as the comm link stabilises.

Spock inclines his head, and a line appears between Kirk's brows. For the first time since their hurried departure from Earth, Kirk looks somber, the excited gleam replaced by concern. 

There is a worrying minute of silence, then Sarek continues. "However, exploration for the purpose of research is not."

Kirk's eyes widen.

"I believe this is a worthwhile endeavour and will assist you greatly in your future as a Starfleet officer," Sarek adds. "Live and Prosper."

"I think your dad just endorsed our crazy stunt," Kirk says with a dazed look, after the comm closes. "He just said 'go and prove these motherfuckers wrong, Spock'."

"I do not think my father endorses such use of language," Spock says. Then, "However, I believe the sentiment is correct."

"Ha! He totally just said 'fuck 'em', cos my son is awesome'!"

"Please refrain from making similar comments in front of my peers," Spock says, but his tone is gentle.

"Whatever." Kirk waves a dismissive hand, and slurps loudly from the canton. "You are ten times more brilliant than any Vulcan you'd find here."

Spock finds the offhand comment pleases him more than it should.


	3. Day 3 - Rigel X

The Captain of the trade ship to Rigel X is a Betazoid, who, upon hearing of their endeavour, insisted that they visit Betazed en-route. 

"It's the festival season on Betazed," the Captain says. "The best time to visit and enjoy our culture!"

Pouring over a replicated print of interstellar map, Kirk draws an elaborate circle around Betazed and stares at it thoughtfully. "Cargo ships," he mutters. "How many days to Betazed on one of these?"

"Three days at warp five," the Captain says. 

"What about warp seven?" Kirk asks.

The Captain gives a loud belly laugh, then sobers when he realises Kirk was not joking. "Warp seven?" he says, giving him a dubious look. "This isn't Starfleet, my friend. Warp five _only_ if it's one of those fast track service ships. Most of them will go about warp two, in fact, since most Captains don't like to give their ships undue strain."

"Huh," Kirk says, and scribbles something on the map's margin. Spock takes one glances at them, and raises an eyebrow in obvious disapproval.

"What," Kirk says, not even bothering to look up.

"I do not believe it is good form to rewire the power conduit of another's ship," Spock says.

"Who says I'm rewiring anyone else's ship?" Kirk asks, biting the end of the stylus and grinning unabashedly. Unperturbed, Spock looks ahead.

"If you decide to steal a ship," Spock informs him, "I will not assist you."

"Right," Kirk says, eyes dancing. "Duly noted."

"Nor will I offer bail." 

"Yeah, Bones is the one I usually call for that," Kirk says solemnly. "He has a standing order for the Intergalactic Justice System, you know." 

"Or character reference, for that matter," Spock continues. "After all, Vulcans cannot lie."

Kirk rolls up the map and hits him on the arm, laughing. "Whatever. I know I have your soul."

"You have my loyalty," Spock says. "If you have my Katra, you would know."

"Ha! I knew it," Kirk says, beaming. He offers Spock a fist bump, which Spock eloquently declines with an eyebrow. "Wait, what's a Katra?"

Spock does not answer, and Kirk rather predictably pouts for the remainder of the docking sequence.

Rigel X happens to be holding an intergalactic trading fair, which, to Spock's surprise and suspicion, delights Kirk endlessly. 

"Oh _look_ ," Kirk says, like a starved cadet at Starfleet's annual buffet banquet, "Raw and exotic minerals, two for the price of one!"

"That is radioactive," Spock informs him levelly, when Kirk picks up a particularly bright piece of crystal. 

"Which means it's a potential power source," Kirk says with a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's get one. You know, for a rainy day." 

Spock eyes the crystal dubiously, but allows the transaction after making sure the casing is indeed radiation-proof. 

"That is essentially a small scale nuclear reactor you are carrying," Spock tells him afterwards. "No public means of transport will allow it past their security."

"Who says we are going by public transport?" Kirk says, winking. His hands are already full of purchases at the fair: three bags of food and necessary upkeep, one small bag of sanitary products, and two carefully wrapped boxes procured efficiently when Spock was distracted by a stall on printed books and related antiquities.

"I'm not trying to be presumptuous or anything," Kirk says, when he joins Spock at the book stall. "But I really don't think you need a book if you are travelling with me."

"On the contrary," Spock murmurs, "It is precisely why I think a book is advisable."

"Oh, this one thinks he's funny," Kirk says to the the bookseller, who appears unappreciative of the joke; he hastily pulled the book Kirk was casually leafing and placed it back on the shelf.

"My books are collectibles," The bookseller tells them with a barely concealed note of contempt. "They are not _travel_ amusements."

Unsurprisingly, Kirk also finds this funny. "I can't believe you just got spurned," he says, as they made way through the weaving crowd. "That guy has never met a Vulcan before, has he?"

"I feel compelled to point out that I was close to purchasing one of his collections on pre-Surak poetry before you arrived," Spock says, although the loss of opportunity to purchase does not bother him much.

"Oh! That reminds me." Kirk says, easily distracted; he pulls out a slender tinbox from one of the bags. "Vulcan tea. Here. Thought you might like it."

Spock stares at the intricately woven patterns on the box and finds himself at a loss for words. "You procured Vulcan mocha here?"

"Er, yes?" Kirk says, scanning his face. "Wait, don't tell me I've been ripped off or something? It _is_ Vulcan, right?"

"It is," Spock says. "Although, Vulcan Mocha is a beverage more similar to coffee."

Kirk's eyes light up. "Oh, awesome." He hesitates for a moment, looks over his shoulder (presumably to the stall where he procured the goods) then at Spock again. "Do you like it?" 

Spock fingers the light inscriptions on the box and finds the cool metal pleasing to the touch. "You are welcome to share it at any time," he says, and Kirk smiles at him, warm and pleased.

Spock had thought they were waiting for the next civilian transport to Betazed, but apparently he was wrong: after an hour of browsing at the fair, Kirk leads them out the back and into a dimly lit bar. The place looks unhygienic with a questionable clientele, which is exactly the kind of place that Spock thinks will lead to events that will require bail later, and he tells Kirk as much.

"Well," Kirk replies mysteriously as he leads them into the basement, "Warp seven don't come easy."

At the bottom of the stairs, Spock finds, rather alarmingly, ten Orion pirates engaged in what appears to be a game of roulettes. 

"Harromad!" Kirk greets enthusiastically, and Spock's alarm increases by threefold. 

"Captain," he says lowly, touching briefly on Kirk's arm. "Caution is advised."

Kirk gives him a look of pure glee and nods several times in an approving manner. "That's right, that's right," Kirk says, face half-flushed, eyes gleaming. " _Captain_."

Spock, being committed to the Vulcan way, seldom regrets things: this is one such instance, when his mind is calculatingly and logically supplying him with 1001 reasons on why unsanctioned interstellar travel with James T Kirk is a Very Bad Idea. 

While Spock quickly calculates the time and evasive manoeuvre needed to nerve pinch ten Orion pirates at once, Kirk appears to have engaged himself deeply in conversation with the one whom he referred to as Harromad, and after a few minutes, they are shaking hands.

"Harromad here has a ship," Kirk announces, clapping his hands together. "Warp seven and ready to leave any minute."

Then, Kirk sits down at the roulettes table.

Spock walks over to Kirk's side and deliberately, very deliberately, places a hand on Kirk's shoulder.

"Did you just agree to a gamble, for access to an Orion ship?"

Kirk looks up at him sideways. "If I say yes, can you not pinch me?" He says, licking his lips. "I kinda need to be conscious for this."

"We could have just boarded a civilian transport with warp two," Spock murmurs. Regret -- he will not show it in his voice, no.

"Relax," Kirk soothes. "Gaila taught me how to play Dabo before. I'm pretty good at this," he says, and watches avidly as the wheels begin to spin, and the Orions begin to thump the table in anticipation. 

After three turns, Spock pinches his eyes close. "This is a game of chance," he says. "I calculate our odds for success to be at 28.2%, if you keep making the same bet."

"Very good odds, compared to what we are used to, don't you think?" Kirk yells over the thump thump thump. His eyes are bright, but clear. Spock feels drawn towards Kirk's confidence, even though he knows gambling is against logic. Kirk smiles: as if he knows Spock has conceded once again to his illogical whims.

"Eyes on the wheel, not the Vulcan!" One Orion yells, and they laugh obnoxiously. Kirk makes a rude gesture, and Harromad cackles, nearly falling off his seat. 

"Say!" Harromad begins, "I'll raise you. I'll give you the ship _plus_ two beautiful girls if you win, but the Vulcan stays if you lose."

"In your dreams," Kirk says easily, flicking another chip into the wheel. "I'll burn your whole fucking palace down."

To Spock's surprise, Harromad only laughs harder. "That's why Gaila liked you!" he says. "My sister never goes for the boring type now, does she?"

Kirk nods arrogantly and drops the final chip with deliberation. The wheel spins faster and faster, three rings at once, and Spock sees it before it settles -- 

"DABO!" Kirk yells, throwing his arms above his head and nearly hitting Spock in the nose. "Cough it up, 'Maddie!"

Groaning loudly, Harromad throws them an ID chip shaped like a naked Orion female. "Fine, fine," he says. "But don't forget what you said! A full upgrade when it's returned!"

"Sure, sure," Kirk says, waving a hand and twirling the ID chip over his finger. "Shields at 150% capacity as promised."

"200%!" Harromad yells.

"Talk to SCIENCE," Kirk replies. In his peripheral vision, Spock notices him sliding one of the chips into his pocket.

"The Vulcan can get it to 200," Harromad insists. "Can't you?"

Spock inclines his head to the side. "Perhaps," he says cryptically.

Kirk grins a shark-like grin and points a finger at Harromad, as they climb the stairs once more. "Be nice," he says. "Gaila's Astrophysics credit for the year might depend on it."

"I am not open to academic malpractice," Spock tells him readily, as Harromad cries,

"Oh THAT Vulcan! Hey! You be nice to my sister -- "

Kirk slams the door shut and exhales triumphantly. "Ready to roll?" he asks. Outside, night has fallen, and the fair has lit up with a spectrum of revolving lights: Kirk is beaming a secretive smile, eyes bright.

"I maintain that a civilian transport to Betazed would have served the purpose just fine," Spock says exasperately, although he cannot help but give a small, involuntary nod.

Kirk grins wider. "Who said anything about Betazed?" he winks, and leads them into the effulgent night. 


	4. Day 4 - Onboard the Orion Ship - Betazed Space

 

"As the Primary Investigator of this research project," Spock says patiently, "It is customary to be consulted with, before we embark on a new segment of the journey."

Kirk hums and peers up at him. "It's cute," he says. "This thing you do, when you are pissed. Using long words."

Spock gives him the eyebrow.

"Also," Kirk continues inconsequentially, "I got us the ship. Ergo, _Captain_."

"You are very attached to your power status," Spock observes.

"And you are way too attached to your logic," Kirk shoots back easily. "C'mon. We are on holiday. Just go with it, can't you?"

Spock points at the starmap on the screen and draws a swivelling line in midair. "If that is indeed your navigational ethos, then we will miss Betazed by 3.2 parsecs," he says. "I do not see how that is conducive to our research goal. Also, by procuring our own ship, we have deviated from our original research methodology, which is the investigation of civilian routes -- "

"Wow," Kirk interjects, a note of awe in his voice, "You _really_ wanted to do this properly like research, didn't you?"

Spock stares at him mutely. 

"It's a wager, Spock," Kirk says patiently. "You don't win wagers by following 'methodologies'."

Spock's eyebrow twitches.

"In fact, you don't use methodologies if you want to ace Advanced Tactical Training, Field Simulations, and Rescue Operations either," Kirk says, counting them off on his fingers. "The least of which, Kobayashi Maru."

"I am not certain the analogy bodes well for our trip," Spock says, feeling a muscle tick in his temple.

"Boy, you really hate to talk about this, don't you?" Kirk says, squinting an eye and looking insufferably smug. "Alright. Let's change the subject. How do you like our new ship?" he says, gesturing expansively.

The Orion ship is, as one would expect, fast and over-weaponised, with a luxuriously lined Captain's quarters (which Kirk has commandeered) and slightly sparse but equally comfortable First Officer's quarters (which Spock has taken with little objection). The pantry is especially well-stocked: enough to last them weeks of interstellar travel.

"The ship has a treasure vault," Spock says. "The bars and EMP field generators suggest they are used to hold slaves."

"Prisoners," Kirk says, a little uncomfortably. "Harromad has sworn off the slave trade. Or so Gaila says. Consequences are dire if you go back on a promise you made to Gaila."

Spock nods, thinking back to the time Gaila cornered him in the mess hall after he and Uhura ended their romantic association. 

"Okay," Kirk says, scanning his face with interest. "I see a story here. Spill."

Spock raises an eyebrow. "You are psi-null," he points out.

"Yeah but I know you like Pike knows Number One," Kirk says. "Go on. We have nothing but mind-numbing travel for days. This isn't gonna work if we don't find something to talk about."

"Which is why I am thinking back to the interrupted book purchase," Spock tells him.

"Oh fuck off," Kirk says with no vehemence at all. "You love me. Come on, tell me something."

Spock considers this for a minute. "I peer reviewed your article at the Journal of Advanced Astrophysics," he says inconsequentially.

Kirk's eyes widen comically, then sputters. "You!" he says, all mention of Gaila evidently forgotten. "I knew it! You nearly killed my article! Who asks for a major revision when everyone else on the review board recommends for publication straight?"

"A scholar with academic integrity," Spock says calmly. "Your second equation was sloppy. The reasoning for your conclusion was not clearly presented. I could see your logic -- but only after careful reconstructing of the quantum tunnelling sequence. Your revised draft was substantially better."

Kirk squints at him, narrow-eyed. "I would hate you so much," he says slowly, "If it weren't for the fact that you're probably the only one on the review board who read my article that closely."

Spock inclines his head. 

"I didn't sleep for a week after getting your comments," Kirk says. "Rewrote the whole thing from bottom up. The only thing drove me was the pure hatred for the anonymous stuck-up who was preventing me from graduating with distinction, and getting my ship."

"Hatred is an illogical emotion," Spock advises serenely.

"So much," Kirk says, shaking his head, eyes bright. "Now tell me about what Gaila did to you."

Spock's eyebrow twitches again.

"What," Kirk says, grinning lopsidedly, "You think I'd be distracted? Vulcans. So naive."

"You do hound gossip like a canine," Spock comments.

"A Captain ought to know what goes on in his ship's crew," Kirk says proudly, jutting out his chest. "Out with it, that's an order, Mr. Spock."

Spock resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

"Lieutenant Gaila approached me after Lieutenant Uhura and I ended our relationship," Spock says finally. "I understood the reason for her doing so was out of concern for her friend, which is why I did not file for charges of threats against my person and wellbeing."

Kirk chortles so hard that Spock has to steady him from falling off the seat. "Did you threaten to cut your dick off, too?" Kirk asks, gleefully.

"I have no comment on the matter," Spock says automatically. Then, turning dubiously to the man who is now purple in the face, "...too?"

"Yeah," Kirk says, with a nostalgic sigh. "I told her if she did, it'd be disservice to humanity and the Federation xenocomunnity, and she saw my logic."

The tick has returned in Spock's supraorbital bridge. "I believe you are mistaking logic with quibbling," he says.

"Right," Kirk agrees good-naturedly. "Whatever works. Baby Jim remains attached, Kirkgasms prevail!"

There are days when Spock longs for the professional, detached, polite relationship between a Captain and a First Officer: where no mention of sex is involved and he does not know what his Captain calls his own male genitals. This is one of those days. 

"Aha," Kirk announces suddenly, wiping a hand over his PADD, and flicking a news headline up on the screen ahead. 

BREAKING NEWS: TRAIL OF GALAXY-TRAIPSING ENTERPRISE DUO DISAPPEARS IN RIGEL X 

"See?" Kirk grins. "Lost the paparazzi. Now we can do whatever we want."

"I fail to see how the presence of media attention could have persuaded you otherwise," Spock informs him.

Kirk pretends to consider this for a second. "You are right," he says magnanimously. "Ask not what you can do for media but ask what the media can do for you," he says, tapping fluently away on his PADD.

"Your comm unit is vibrating," Spock observes. "It has done so repeatedly in the last thirty minutes. Are you going to take the call?"

"Do you want to hear Bones shout at me for half an hour?" Kirk says, without looking up. "Yeah, I thought so."

"I can retire to my quarters," Spock suggests.

"Don't even think about it," Kirk says, jutting out a foot in Spock's way. "If Bones is gonna shout at me, you gotta listen. After all, it's _your_ wager."

"Evidently not," Spock says. "As we are not presently onboard the civilian transport to Betazed."

"Man, you _really_ don't approve of my methods, do you?" Kirk says, smug and with considerable pride.

"As I said, I fail to see the scientific method here," Spock replies.

Kirk nods, slowly, then breaks an indecipherable grin. "Remarkable Vulcan constraint, huh?"

Spock glances at him. "Clarify."

"It's been _hours_. The First Officer doth protest too much, but you haven't exactly asked me where we are going yet."

Spock raises a brow. "I did not wish to give you the satisfaction," he says flatly.

"Ahhh, right, 'cos that's what you live for," Kirk says. 

Spock regards him with the eyebrow. 

"You are _such_ a spoilsport," Kirk needles, knocking him on the arm once more. "Okay. Pleeeeeease?"

Spock exhales through his nose and taps the navigation control screen rapidly several times. "Based on our current trajectory and warp factor," he says, "I postulate that you are planning to circumvent Betazed and associated Federation territories altogether."

He looks back and meets Kirk's gaze, who has that gleam in his eye again. Spock taps once on the screen, and a brown planet with silvery white atmosphere shows up on the star viewer. 

"I do believe you are, in fact," Spock says slowly, "heading for Cardassia."

 


	5. Day 8 - Onboard Orion Ship - Outside Cardassian Space

The next three days pass by largely without incident. Kirk loses their chess games four to six, and Spock tells him a total of fifteen anecdotes about his childhood on Vulcan and time in Starfleet Academy in attempt to deflect more personal lines of questioning (i.e. sex). On Day five Kirk proposes a food fight, to which Spock politely declines, thus incident avoided. Dr McCoy calls on day six and Kirk finally gives in; Spock spends most of the day attempting to meditate away from the increasingly loud and frivolous verbal jousting. 

Kirk rewires the Orion ship's power conduit on day seven and suddenly they are replicating exotic food items, however Kirk soon develops an anaphylactic reaction to a Betazoidian cake, thus the experiment is aborted.

Upon review, Spock decides the fact that he had to manually enter the molecular structure of epinephrine into the replicator in order to save Kirk's life, warrants the event as An Incident.

Kirk is feeble for the whole of Day seven: feeble, because Spock is too polite to use the word 'pathetic'. The swelling in Kirk's face is going down slow, so are the rashes on his arm; Kirk is so miserable that he begs Spock to nerve-pinch him into oblivion. Spock informs him that Vulcan nerve pinches are not a substitute for general anaesthesia, which he does not need in any case, and Kirk scratches his arm viciously in reply.

In the end, Spock has to pin Kirk's arms above his head in the bed, and considers the situation dire enough when Kirk does not even make a single remark about their compromised position. He traces his fingers over Kirk's face, and applies a light meld that places a surprised Kirk straight to dreamless sleep.

Spock does _not_ spend the next hour sitting next to Kirk's bed, monitoring the rise and fall of Kirk's chest.

Day eight starts with a Yellow Alert. Kirk, freshly rash free, sits cross-legged in the Captain's Chair and beams at him, when Spock walks onto the bridge.

"We are an hour away from Cardassian space," Kirk informs him. "Let's keep an eye out. Cardassians aren't the most friendly bunch, and we don't want any trouble."

Spock sits down at the navigational console and enlarges the sector map in front of him. "In that case," he says slowly, "I believe we should circumvent Cardassia Prime altogether."

Kirk narrows his eyes. "Why?"

"Cardassia is a military regime," Spock says. "Their relationship with the Federation is uncertain at best. While we do not represent Starfleet on this visit, we are certainly recognisable among their higher official ranks. Entering into Cardassia unannounced might cause complications for our onward journey."

"I thought so too," Kirk says. "Which is why I had Harromad leak our warp trail a few days before. By now those interested would have figured out that we have skipped Betazed and are going straight for Cardassia."

Spock waits for the rest of the plan, but Kirk seems to have finished speaking. "That is all?" he asks, brow raised.

Kirk shrugs.

"How much do you know about Cardassia and their political culture?" Spock asks slowly.

Kirk scratches the back of his neck. "I met one in a bar once?"

"You met one in a bar once," Spock repeats, flat.

Kirk flushes pink. "There are literally only six pages of information on Cardassia in the whole Xenoculture syllabus!" he says defensively. "Ten, if you count the classified info in the Starfleet database. Just — look, from what I heard, Cardassia wants to improve relations with the Federation. Right? But Starfleet doesn't want to be seen doing a lot of business with a military dictatorship, so, I figured, they'd jump at the chance of inviting a Starfleet Captain and Commander for a personal visit. You know. To test waters."

In his mind's eye, Spock can see A Huge Incident approaching in capitalised letters, with Red Alert for sound effect. "It is just likely that the Cardassians will arrest us on grounds of espionage," he says. "In fact, there is an 76.2% chance that they will view our unofficial visit in a negative light. Cardassians neither read nor trust tabloids."

"You had no objections until now!" Kirk says. "You knew we were headed here since like, day one!"

"Who informed you _we_ were heading for Cardassia?" Spock says, with no small amount of sarcasm. 

Kirk narrows his eyes. 

"It has always been my intention to correct our course before we entered into Cardassian space," Spock says calmly, working on the co-ordinates as he speaks. "We will circumvent their territory and make way for the neutral trading hub behind the sector. Beltane XII is protected by Intergalactic Trading Law, which means it has no sovereign territory claims."

"Fine, fine," Kirk says sulkily. "But for the record? The reason I didn't tell you we were changing course was cos the idea just sprung into my mind. You, on the other hand," Kirk squints at him and licks his lips, "You are a master manipulator."

"Vulcans do not manipulate," Spock responds automatically. "We do, however, prefer to plan ahead."

"So much hatred," Kirk mumbles.

Spock notices something on the long range sensors. There is a fast warp signal approaching them: faster than anything they can conceivably outrun.

"Out of the chair," Spock says, standing up.

"What?" Kirk says indignantly. "No. Still your Captain. Suck it, Spock."

"Then I believe mutiny is in order," Spock replies, and readily manoeuvres Kirk out of the Captain's chair, just as their screen lights up with a hail.

"Orion ship," a gruff male voice announces. "You have trespassed into Cardassian space. Respond to hail, or we will open fire."

Kirk's mouth drops open. "Okay, first? We are _not_ in Cardassian space yet," he says, double tapping the sector map. "Second? Spock, now is _really_ not a good time for a mutiny."

"Cardassia has a mutual non-violation treaty with Vulcan," Spock says calmly. "The same cannot be said with Earth. Please let me handle this, Jim."

Kirk regards him intently for a few seconds, and Spock meets his gaze levelly. Finally, Kirk exhales through his nose. 

"On screen," he says, and opens hail.

The Cardassian Lieutenant looks taken aback at the sight of Spock on the Captain's Chair. "A Vulcan," he says. "What business do you have in Cardassia?"

"A non sequitur," Spock answers. "As we are not yet within Cardassian space."

The Cardassian Lieutenant harrumphs. "We have just acquired the space three parsecs around this asteroid belt," he says. "Keep up with your interstellar bulletin's. You are charged with trespassing."

Spock flicks a brow. "When did the acquisition take place?"

"Five hours ago," the Lieutenant barks. "Prepare to be boarded! We will take you to Cardassia for trial."

The screen flickers dark, and Spock tightens his grip on the armrest of the Captain's Chair.

"We could shoot them," Kirk says nonchalantly. "Although we'd only last like, five minutes."

"Inadvisable," Spock murmurs.

"Yeah. I don't think it'd look good if we start some sort of Intergalactic Incident," Kirk says ruefully.

Spock gives him a look that clearly says 'if you wanted to avoid this situation we should have boarded the civilian ship to Betazed'. 

"Whatever you are thinking right now," Kirk says, "I bet it's illogical."

"You seem to find our present situation amusing," Spock observes.

"Damn right," Kirk says. "Two minutes of you in the Captain's Chair and we are already getting boarded. I'm _never_ agreeing to a mutiny again."

Spock's eyelid twitches.

"Cardassians might not follow tabloids," Kirk continues, unabashed, "But most of Federation does. Everyone knows we are in Cardassia."

"Intergalactic attention for our predicament is hardly a comfort," Spock says.

"Public media attention is your best friend when you are faced with military dictatorships," Kirk reasons. "With the whole Federation watching, the charges won't stick. How much are you willing to bet that I can squeeze a military ride to Beltane XII after this?"

Spock releases his grip on the armrest, and exhales through his nose. "I realise now that it is a mistake for the Vulcan High Council not to update the Federation with all our knowledge on Cardassia," he murmurs.

A high pitched noise indicates the arrival of Cardassians onboard, and Spock stands up. Kirk steps up to join him, and peers at him sideways.

"Am I going to like this?" Kirk asks.

"Negative," Spock says. 

"Well, they are five seconds away from the bridge," Kirk says. "So if you are gonna tell me they are actually cannibals or something, it's really now or never."

Spock comes to a parade rest, and looks straight ahead. "The Cardassians have a very peculiar trial system," he says, low.

Kirk eyes him dubiously. "Peculiar how?"

"Once charged, they never find anyone _not_ guilty," Spock answers.

"Right," Kirk says, nodding slowly as five Cardassian security guards thunder onto the bridge. " _Shit_."


	6. Day 9 - Onboard the Cardassian Patrol Ship - 2.1 parsecs away from Cardassia Prime

 

Shit happens. 

James T Kirk, man of (self-proclaimed) resource and conviction, finds more wisdom in these two words than the whole of Surak's teachings (read: ramblings) combined, and sometimes, even Spock has to agree.

"What do we do now?" Kirk whispers, as they are led down the corridor of the Cardassian patrol ship.

Spock gives him a look. "I admit I did not plan for this eventuality," he says.

"Right," Kirk says, nodding. "So what do we do now, _Captain_?"

Spock stops briefly in his tracks, which prompts the security guard to shout at them in a language neither of them understands. "Silence is always a good option," Spock murmurs, once they start moving again.

Beside him, Kirk makes a point of laughing silently towards the ceiling.

The Cardassian Lieutenant, by the name of Bretav, finds the situation considerably less amusing. "Do I know you from somewhere?" he barks, circling Kirk like a predator circling prey.

"Eh," Kirk says. "Depends? Do you read _The Interstellar Scoop_?"

"Please refrain from getting us executed before the trial," Spock says exasperatedly, as Bretav recoils in disgust.

"Gossip," he spits out in contempt. "Journalists. You are not welcome on Cardassia."

"We are not journalists," Spock tells him. "We also have no plans onCardassian space. We are headed for Beltane XII."

"On an Orion ship?" Bretav says suspiciously. "Most unorthodox. I do not believe you. You will be tried at court!"

Spock says nothing. 

"You will be assigned a public defender," Bretav continues, and flips through his PADD quickly. "Aha. Zokukt! That's right. Our best public defender in the history of Cardassia."

"Um, that's very kind of you?" Kirk ventures.

Bretav snaps the PADD shut. "Zokukt has never failed to convince the accused of their rightful charged crime," he says. "Justice will be served!" 

Kirk stares at him. "You and I have _very_ different definitions of justice," he says.

Bretav merely cackles. "Federation journalists," he says. "Always think they are so funny. Our justice will serve you right, mark my words."

"Right," Kirk says, dubiously. "Just out of interest — what is the appropriate sentence for trespassing on Cardassia?"

"Three months on a mining colony," Bretav says, already beckoning for a security guard. "Take them to their cells!"

"And where exactly is this mining colony?" Kirk asks over his shoulder. "Seriously, like, is it close to Beltane XII?"

The guards shove them unceremoniously into a dark, hot and humid room, and Kirk finally quiets down when he realises the guard outside their door does not speak Standard, and is not equipped with an universal translator. 

"Great," Kirk says, slumping down against the wall. "I think I saw a porno that began in a room like this."

"You do not seem particularly affected by our capture," Spock comments.

Kirk snorts. "Neither are you," he says. "They haven't even searched us or anything. Pretty arrogant bunch, aren't they?"

"The Lieutenant does not appear to know who we are," Spock says. "His ignorance works in our favour."

"Maybe he's only seen that god-awful picture at Rigel," Kirk says, looking hopeful.

"Cardassians have eidetic memories," Spock tells him. "If he has seen a picture of either of us, it is unlikely he will forget."

"Then I am glad he _hasn't_ seen that picture on Rigel," Kirk says. "Man. You really know how to cheer a guy up."

"The Cardassians take pride in their justice system," Spock continues. "They do not execute prisoners at random."

Kirk peers at him sideways. "Is that supposed to be cheering me up?"

"Affirmative," Spock says.

Kirk grins wide and shakes his head. "It's not working," he says.

Spock gives him the eyebrow.

They fall into companionable silence for a few minutes, and Kirk shuffles himself against the wall. 

"What brief does Starfleet provide for information on Cardassia?" Spock asks after a while.

"Not much," Kirk says, heaving a long breath. "Military dictatorship, neither friend nor enemy, ruthless as fuck. Oh and, an extra four pages in the classified database that basically says 'Don't piss one off, and if you do, don't argue with their judiciary process'."

"Yet you did not know that their judiciary process is unbalanced," Spock remarks. "There is, as they say, no such thing as a fair trial in Cardassia."

"I am so gonna hack into that database and rewrite that entry in red, angry letters," Kirk vows, pulling at his collar viciously.

"Are you well?" Spock enquires.

"It's too hot for me in here," Kirk says, grimacing. "And sticky. Ew. It's like a poorly lit sauna."

"Cardassians prefer their environment dark, hot and humid," Spock replies. "The condition of this cell does appear too uncomfortable for humans."

"And you?" Kirk asks, "Probably just the right kind of toasty in here, right?"

"Vulcan was a desert planet," Spock replies. 

"I bet you can control your sweat glands," Kirk says morosely.

"I will attempt meditation," Spock says. "Perhaps you should consider it too."

"I think I'd rather eat Klingon Rokeg blood pie," Kirk says pleasantly. 

Spock inclines his head. "As you wish," he says, and closes his eyes.

Spock comes out of his light meditation three hours later to find Kirk half-naked, slumped and spray-legged against the wall and staring at him.

"I had nothing to do," Kirk informs him sourly.

"The heat is making you agitated," Spock observes.

"That's one word for it," Kirk says. "I'd go with 'baked and crusted', but whatever."

Spock reaches for his universal translator and twists open one end. After a few minutes of reconfiguration, the indicator lights flashes green three times. 

"You are mistreating the human prisoner," Spock says into the universal translator, which spits out some guttural vowels and a few unrecognisable constants. "Terrans are ill-adapted to the climate onboard Cardassian ships. Kindly reduce the temperature and humidity in this room."

The guard yanks open the door, stares at them, snorts, yells something, then disappears off the corridor.

"Not that I don't appreciate the effort," Kirk begins. "But for all we know, you could've just insulted his mother."

"I should hope not," Spock says calmly. "Cardassians hold their families at the highest regard. To insult one's mother would incur their most extreme wrath."

"I'm just gonna shut up now," Kirk says miserably.

"Wise course of action," Spock says.

Ten minutes later, the guard returns. With another indecipherable string of yelling, he sets down an enormous bucket of water on the ground, and slams the door shut once more.

"Cool," Kirk says, although he makes no attempt to move. "Big enough for a bath."

Spock furrows his brows and moves closer: Kirk's skin is hot to the touch, but dry. In the dim light, Spock can see Kirk's breathing is laboured, shallow; a telltale sign of heatstroke.

With one agile motion, Spock takes off his shirt and crumples it up, dipping it in the water. Kirk regards him with hooded eyes, and grins lopsidedly.

"Definitely saw a porno like this," he mumbles.

"Be quiet," Spock advises, and rubs the soaked shirt over Kirk's torso. The water evaporates easily, and Spock can feel the flurry of Kirk's heartbeat under his palm. Without a word, he carried the bucket over and dumped half of its contents onto Kirk's half-naked body.

"Hey!" Kirk protested weakly. "I'm still awake!"

"You will not be if you do not lower your core body temperature," Spock informs him. "Remove yourself from the wall."

Kirk slumps forwards, groaning, and Spock rubs his back with the wet shirt. After a few beats, Kirk chuckles.

"This is kinda nice," Kirk says. "I feel like I'm having a dream."

"Delirium is seldom a good sign," Spock tells him. "Do you know where you are?"

"Nowhere I'd rather be," Kirk says, slumping backwards again and beaming at him, unfocused. 

"State your name for me," Spock says.

"I'm your Captain," Kirk says with a concerning deliberation. "Is the mutiny over? I'd like my chair back now."

Spock regards him in the low light, and finds Kirk's pupil blown worryingly wide. "If your core temperature does not lower in the next five minutes," he says lowly, "I will have no choice but to override your homeostatic control system via a mind meld."

Kirk licks his lips and squints. "Is that what you did, before? To put me out so I don't scratch my face open?"

"That was a light meld," Spock says. "It was preferable to the nerve pinch that you requested."

"Best sleep I've had in years," Kirk tells him, beaming sloppily. Then, "Why can't you do that to the guards? You can control all of them and we can take over the Cardassian Empire," he says, voice dropping low at the end of each sentence.

With a small exhale, Spock arranges his finger on Kirk's face. "Mind melds are not the same as mind control," he says patiently, soft. "Some Cardassians are also immune to them."

"Huh," Kirk furrows his brows. "Imagine that."

"Most species object to having their minds accessed by an outsider," Spock murmurs. Kirk's eyes are drooping, but they still have some clarity in them which Spock finds difficult to look away from.

"You're not an outsider," Kirk whispers, and his eyes flutter close.

Spock's gaze linger on the long lashes on Kirk's face, and closes his eyes as well. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because of the way Kirk gets them into all sorts of crazies, somehow I feel this fic might need a hurt/comfort tag after all...hmmm.


	7. Day 10 - Onboard the Cardassian Patrol Ship - 0.8 parsecs away from Cardassia Prime

 

Spock wakes to a mixture of loud sounds: doors slamming, klaxons blaring, boots clanging on the floor. Kirk is pressing one ear against the door, and staring at him with wide eyes.

"Are you _sure_ they don't execute prisoners at random?" Kirk asks. "Or have bloody coups while having innocent prisoners on board? 'cos I'm pretty sure something big's going down out there."

Spock opens his mouth, inhales, then closes it again. 

"Well fuck," Kirk concludes. "You don't happen to know how to refit a universal translator for a phaser, do you?"

"Not within the realm of physics, no," Spock says. Then, "A minor explosion, perhaps."

Kirk fumbles with his UT and throws it against Spock's already remodelled one. "Make that a big ass explosion," he says hurriedly, rifling through his discarded shirt. "I've still got that power crystal somewhere — "

"I do not think that is necessary," Spock says, just as the doors to their cell burst open.

"TRESPASSERS!" Bretav's voice booms from the doorway. "Follow me."

Kirk straightens slowly from the floor. "Where are you taking us?" he demands.

"To the cargo bay," Bretav replies. "From there, who cares?"

Kirk gives his universal translator a desperate shake and glances at Spock with slightly manic eyes. "You sure this thing still works? He said 'cargo bay', right, not 'air lock'?"

"We have rights to a public defender," Spock tells Bretav, who merely cackles.

"No public defender for you now, Federation journalists," he says. "There's been a change of plans."

" _Definitely_ going to hack that database," Kirk mumbles.

"The Cardassian Justice Code clearly states that those incriminated have the right to the updates in judicial proceedings," Spock recites.

"Meaning if there's air locks involved we need to know beforehand," Kirk supplies helpfully. "So we can have a comm call or something."

To Kirk's evident surprise, Bretav pulls out two comm units and throws it at them. "There," he sneers. 

"Okay," Kirk says slowly, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Now I'm really worried. Spock?" he says, turning to the side.

Spock notices that Kirk pockets the comm unit quickly and appears to have sent a message in the three seconds it took him to do so.

"The Cardassian — " Spock tries again, and Bretav makes an impatient noise.

"Concerns you no more!" Bretav says, seemingly a non sequitur. "You will be — "

Suddenly, a cheerful tune blares from the ship-wide speaker system, and all three of them look up.

_"Shake your booty, shake your money, come make money — "_

"What the actual fuck," Kirk says. "Is that the theme tune from Risa's biggest gambling chain, _The Moneyshaker_?"

In response, Bretav palms open a comm link and roars, "Tell that big-eared two brains to shut that noise!"

The music doesn't stop — Bretav turns green in the face.

"Yeah," Kirk says, shrugging. "This tune really doesn't go with your cold Macho style. Just sayin'."

Bretav makes a frustrated growl and Spock sidesteps subtly to break his line of vision with Kirk. In response, Kirk nudges him lightly in the shoulder. When Spock turns, Kirk simply grins at him, unabashed.

"Nalk's Luxurious Passenger SpaceLine," a cheery male voice rings from the comm as the music fades in the background. "All welcome aboard at any time!"

"SHUT HIS FACE," Bretav roars.

The doors to the cargo bay slide open and a short humanoid with large, flappable ears and a prominently enlarged skull comes into view. He beams at them.

"My passengers!" the humanoid cries, rushing forward. "Welcome to Nalk's premium service. _Very_ glad to have you onboard."

"Watch it, Ferengi," Bretav growls. "This is still a Cardassian ship, and I can have you thrown out the airlock."

"What he said," Kirk says quickly, darting his eyes between Nalk and Bretav.

Nalk simply laughs. "Oh, funny, Lieutenant Bretav, you. Throw me out the airlock? To where? My newly bought little belt of space?"

Bretav bares this teeth and growls.

"I don't know why the Union ever does business with Ferengis," he spits out. "But get out of my sight before I decide to reacquire your little trade route again."

"Ah ah ah," Nalk wags a finger, "Rule of acquisition number sixteen: a deal is a deal. I paid a pretty sum of latinums for this belt of space, and I'm going to keep it."

"Fine!" Bretav yells. He turns around and shoves Kirk unceremoniously in the shoulder, who glares at him. "Just get out of my way. And take the trespassers and make sure they get tried!"

Nalk eyes them curiously. "Trespassers?" He says. "We Ferengis don't embrace rude concepts such as _trespassing_. Everyone who passes through Ferengi space is a valued customer!"

"Aaaaand we are going with this guy," Kirk says quickly, sidling over to Nalk. "Hi. Valued Customer here," he says, grinning and waggling his eyebrows.

Spock turns his eyes towards the ceiling.

"And a warm welcome onboard Nalk's Luxury Spaceline!" Nalk announces, clapping his hands together and ushering them towards the turbolift door. "For the low low price of two latinum bars, we will beam you aboard in no time!"

Kirk stops in his tracks abruptly. "Latinum bars?" He says, turning to Bretav, who is still visibly fuming at the loss of his authority. "You gonna let this guy charge us to use _your_ transporter facilities?"

"I'LL CHARGE YOU FOR THREE YOU SHAMELESS FEDERATION TRESPASSER," Bretav explodes.

Kirk snaps his mouth shut and glances desperately at Spock. 

"We are not familiar with latinum as a currency," Spock informs them. "However, our ship — "

"What? No," Kirk interjects quickly, "No. Harromad'll have my skin if we sell his ship."

"The Orion piece of garbage?" Bretav sneers. "We already took it apart for scraps. Barely found anything useful, let alone valuable."

"What," Kirk says flatly.

Spock moves instinctively to break the line of vision between Kirk and Bretav again — this time, Kirk punches him in the shoulder. Spock gives him a look, and Kirk gazes accusingly back, and after a thirty-second staring contest, the matter is settled. 

"We are currently short on funds," Spock informs Nalk finally.

Nalk makes a sympathetic noise as he clucks his tongues. "Pity. No latinum? No problem. You can still catch a shuttle to our Luxurious SpaceLine."

He gestures expansively towards the other side of the cargo bay, where an old, battered shuttlecraft sat in the corner.

"I'm not sure I like this," Kirk mutters. "Is there no other options?"

"There's always my air lock," Bretav offers flatly.

"And we are taking the shuttlecraft," Kirk says swiftly, turning on his heels.

The inside of the shuttlecraft is surprisingly well-maintained: full automatic controls, high definition optic screens line every inch of the wall, holotheatre sound systems. Kirk whistles upon entering the vessel, and settles into the leather sofa with aplomb.

"I like this!" Kirk beams, patting the seat next to him. "I guess the Ferengi don't know that the journey can be all the fun, huh!"

"That remains to be seen," Spock says. "As we do not seem to have access to the ship controls."

"Ever the control freak," Kirk says amiably. "Come on, just relax, will you? Let's see if they've got any good holovid on here."

They sit down, and, upon sensing their settled weight, the shuttlecraft begins to move. The optic walls light up with the revolving logo "NALK'S LUXURIOUS SPACELINE", and blinks.

"Sweet," Kirk says.

_"Nalk's Luxurious SpaceLine,"_ the wall starts to play. _"Welcome aboard our limited edition shuttlecraft. For today's journey, we are going to show you a carefully selection of the best and the rarest the SpaceLine has to offer."_

Two very green, and very naked women appear on the screen.

"I see," Spock says.

Kirk bursts out laughing. "I like this ship!" he declares, and proceeds to sprawl out on the sofa, giving no regard to Spock's increasing need for personal space. 

The image on the screen changes to that of a roulette wheel. _"Our most famous and ingenius game of the entire galaxy — "_

"Hey! That's Dabo," Kirk says, straightening up. "So that's where Harromad gets the game from!"

_"— Which you can experience with true authenticity onboard our Luxurious SpaceLine — "_

Another naked female of indeterminable race perches over the wheel.

"So _that's_ how the game's supposed to be played," Kirk says with evident interest.

"I am reevaluating our choices of opting for this ship," Spock informs him.

"Okay fine, fine," Kirk says good-naturedly, and taps the optic screen several times. "Come on. Menu, menu. There's gotta be a cultural sensitivity option some where…"

A menu does appear, with three options:

_\- Three slips of Latinum to skip to our next offering_

_\- Three strips of Latinum to peruse our full offering at your leisure_

_\- THREE LATINUM BARS TO PURCHASE OUR CURRENT OFFERING !!! HOT !!! RECOMMENDED !!!_

Kirk stares at the menu for some time, then closes his mouth. 

"Now _I'm_ reevaluating the choice of taking this ship," he says. "What the — are they serious?"

"It would appear that the Ferengi are an entrepreneurial race," Spock comments.

Kirk laughs for a total of two seconds then sobers up. "You know that means for once you are gonna have to sit through the fun like everyone else," he says in a gravel voice.

"Fun has variable meanings," Spock says flatly.

"Just, let me know if you, y'know, need a minute. Or ten." Kirk winks at him, all suave and charm again and completely immune to Spock's wall of non-emotion. "I'll look the other way. Y'know, if you want me to."

"Please cease speaking," Spock says, pained.

"Right, right," Kirk agrees amiably, and spends the next three minutes laughing silently at the ceiling.

Three hours later, however, Kirk is no longer laughing.

"Okay, never thought I'd say this, but there is too much of a good thing here," Kirk says, appearing agitated as he burrows deeper into the sofa. "This is — I would say this is what turns me gay if it weren't so wrong and who does the hetero-normality shit anyway — but this — "

"I agree," Spock says while he studies the floor — the only piece of furniture covering that is not covered by the optic screen in this room — intently.

Kirk rubs two hands over his face and groans. "I thought it was bad when they started bringing out the snakes… no this is bad. THIS is bad. Ohmygod make them stop, Spock, make them stop."

"I am a tree," Spock murmurs.

"Oh fuck you, seriously?" Kirk yells incredulous, punching him on the shoulder. " _Seriously?_ You gonna meditate in front of porn!?" 

"I am water," Spock replies, unmoved. 

Kirk lets out a frustrated noise and runs a hand through his hair. "This isn't even good porn anymore! Ohmygod no not the cup! Not the cup! Fuuuuuuuuck — " 

A precious brief, a few seconds too brief pause, before Kirk speaks again.

"This squelching sound is making me sick," he says feebly.

Spock breathes deeply for a few times, then exhales. "I believe," he says slowly over the surround sound, "that the program is coded to increase in its… variance in taste, when a selection for purchase was not made on previous showings."

Kirk makes a sound not dissimilar to an old Sehlat wounded in battle. "How long until we reach the fucking SpaceLine ship, Spock?"

Spock studies the chart closely, then straightens. 

"It appears we are already within range," he says. "We are being towed by the SpaceLine itself."

With a swipe, a flashing red option in capital letters appear around them:

"COME ABOARD TO THE REAL FUN IMMEDIATELY! SALE PRICE: ONLY TWO LATINUM BARS!"

After it, a small count down:

_"Time until boarding otherwise: six hours, forty-five minutes, three seconds"_

A minute of worrying pause, then Kirk turns slowly towards him, eyes wide and a pale in the screen's reflection. "I'm hacking the fucking database," he enunciates.

Spock inclines his head. "Which one?"

"All of them!" Kirk says viciously, bouncing off the sofa in a nervous ball of energy. "This one! I'm — yes, this one!"

"You are not making sense," Spock repeats for what he feels is surely the hundredth time in past few weeks. 

"Do they take etransactions? Do they — ha! Of course they do!" Kirk rubs his hands together. "Just need to make them think there's money where it's due, that's all — "

Spock cannot help but feel a tendril of alarm as Kirk fervently taps the "COME ABOARD NOW" option. "Captain, this is not logical."

The protagonist featured in the most recent 'offering' on the screen is making increasingly insistent noises, which Spock does not think help his case.

"Logical?" Kirk says in a voice almost unrecognisable from his usual self, as he turns and stares at Spock with wild eyes, face flushed. " _Logical_? Spock! We are being shut in a room, in the middle of contended space, _being forced to watch porn_! There is no logic in this fucking _universe_!"

Another minute of deep, contemplative pause, then Spock concedes his point. 

"I will assist you in accessing the mainframe," he says.

"Attaboy!" Kirk beams, as the naked genderfluent alien on the optic screen makes a keen noise of pleasure. "Let's make those greedy suckers think we are _billionaires_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grand idea, Captain Kirk, grand idea.


End file.
